More than three decades ago, news of a James Bond-like hijacking captured the nation's attention. An olive-skinned man dressed in a business suit demanded that $200,000 and four parachutes be delivered to Sea-Tac Airport. After he got it, he leaped from a commercial jet after takeoff into the dark Washington wilderness.

And nobody has ever found him, making his act the world's only unsolved airplane hijacking, federal agents say.

They wanted to make a wax head of the mysterious plane jumper, and when they told friends at Bliss Soaps, a neighboring Broadway business, the company donated the wax. Another Broadway business, Spotlight Fashion, provided the head mold. LeFevre, who has training as a graphic designer, painted the intricate details.

Saturday at 7 p.m., the 3-D likeness of Cooper will be unveiled.

"We think the identification of D.B. Cooper will come through public recognition," LeFevre said.

The museum's depiction also takes into account another sketch made during a segment of Lifetime channel's "Unsolved Mysteries" with one of the flight attendants.

Several so-called experts have claimed to identify the hijacker, who boarded the Nov. 24, 1971, flight from Portland to Sea-Tac Airport under the name Dan Cooper.

People in Nebraska thought they found his skull in 2000. Some researchers in Oregon think Cooper lives there, now in his 80s. A Florida woman told reporters that when her husband was dying of kidney disease in 1995, he whispered he was Dan Cooper.

"I ran across a lot of those people," said Ralph Himmelsbach, the now-retired FBI agent who was in charge of the case. "None of them have even come close."

On the flight to Seattle, Cooper opened a black briefcase for a flight attendant, showing her wires and a battery.

The 36 passengers were let off at Sea-Tac, but the pilots and an attendant stayed with Cooper, who demanded they fly to Mexico.

Himmelsbach followed in a helicopter.

"But it was a real lousy night," he said. "They called us back because we couldn't stay up with the airliner."

Shortly after takeoff, Cooper parachuted from the rear stairs at 10,000 feet, going 196 mph, about 20 miles north of Portland. The weather was stormy with a wind chill of 70 below zero.

Like Himmelsbach, LeFevre thinks Cooper didn't survive the jump. None of the $200,000 ever made it into circulation, though $5,800 worth of the frayed bills were found along the Columbia River in 1980.

Federal agents have investigated hundreds of leads and believe the case will probably remain unsolved. But that doesn't stop people from hoping to find Cooper's true identity -- or the remaining money that many believe is buried in a Washington forest, somewhere near the small town of Ariel.

"Most people are intrigued with chance you can be out hiking in the Northwest," LeFevre said, "and run into a knapsack with nearly $200,000."